Oren Belvin--LOST ON STEAMER GEN LYON BURNED AT SEA MAR 31, 1865

Contributed By

Victoria Frantz

In late April 1865 the steamboat Sultana carrying Union soldiers, many of them recently released from Confederate prisoner of war camps, exploded while going up the Mississippi.

Below is an account by one of the few survivors of the General Lyon. First published in The National Tribune Repository in 1908, the story, which indicates fewer deaths than there actually were, relates the tragedy at sea when the ship was caught in a hurricane off Cape Hatteras.

Burning of the Gen. Lyon.

Terrible Catastrophe, in Which 480 Lives Were Lost.

Editor National Tribune: “Only two of us are now living who made our escape from the fiery flames of the Gen. Lyon, when 480 souls were hushed by the hand of death on March 31, 1865, and both of us reside in Illinois,” said Michael S. Brockett, a farmer of Enfield, Ill., as he retold the harrowing incidents of the disaster that came as a capsheaf of the cruelty to the last days of the civil war, and was only surpassed in horror by the burning of the Sultana on the Mississippi River, in which 700 sick and wounded soldiers perished. The memory of that fatal Friday morning he said he would never forget. Yet it seems to him fresh and as vivid as tho it happened but yesterday. “It seems that I can see the blaze as it carried destruction in its path, hear the agonizing shrieks of the doomed, and see hope vanish with the network of flame driving death in a hideous form to hundreds on board the ill-starred ship.”

“It was about 10 o’clock Friday morning, March 31, that the fire broke out. A barrel of kerosene oil in the porter’s room was broken by the rough sea, and the contents soaked down to the two lower decks, saturating them. The sea was rough, and when the stream of oil struck the furnace the flames quickly spread over the entire vessel, and within half an hour the whole ship was a burning mass. Women and children (there were nearly 120 of them on board), ran shrieking about, imploring to be saved. On one side the fire was roasting them to death, and on the other the sea was opening and surging. Scores sprung from the burning vessel only to be swallowed by the maddened waves which whipped the ship about like a toy and added to the horror of the morning. We had left Wilmington, N.C., only a few hours before, and many of the women and children and not a few of the men were violently sea sick at the time of the fire. In the 56th Ill., which had been picked up at Wilmington to be taken North and disbanded, were many sick soldiers.

“When the fire broke out I was sleeping by the side of my brother. We were only 25 feet from the hatch. The flames spread so quickly that no alarm was given and I was badly burned before I was awakened. One boat was immediately launched by the Captain of the Gen. Lyon, but was instantly stove, the Captain meeting his death then. I grabbed a boat and pitched it into the sea and leaped in after it and several fellow soldiers followed suit. Three besides myself made fast on the boat. We drifted helplessly about at the mercy of the waves, expecting every minute to be our last.

“From the time the Gen. Lyon started on her voyage the weather was rough and a great number of passengers were on the lower decks of the ship to be as far from the roaring of the sea as they could. The bulk of the sick were unable to reach deck and were suffocated and roasted, with all avenues of escape cut off. Alarm usurped the place of coolness and discipline among the men on the upper decks, and the struggle which ensued was a mad endeavor for self-preservation. In an instant two of the Mates ran to the hose and attempted to throw streams of water on the spreading flames, but their efforts were futile. The Captain seeing the turn of affairs at this juncture shouted, “The ship is gone; lower the boats.” A wild disorderly rush to the few boats followed, the Captain of the Gen. Lyon being one of the most eager to escape with life. With him was Capt. [William E.] Weber, of the 56th Ill., and both were killed when the boat in which they sought escape was sucked under the ship and crushed by the machinery.

Pandemonium broke loose on the ship as the flames gradually neared and crowded the people closer and closer to the edge of the vessel, there to be confronted by a sea the tumult of which sang the song of death. Maj. [James P.] Fryles [Files], in command of the 56th Ill., made a heroic but fruitless attempt to quell the turmoil, but lost his life in attempting to help the women and children escape from the blistering flame. Within half an hour the vessel was wrapped in flames and those on deck had in most instances disappeared in the engulfing waves, very few escaping in the limited number of boats. Many who had safely gotten into the boats were later drowned by the high waves, or pulled down to their death by scores of hands that held on to the small crafts with the crazed determination of a drowning person. The waves were running mountain high and many of the bodies were washed ashore.

“As the boat in which we had escaped with a party of four washed farther and farther away, four more unfortunates were rescued and taken aboard. They were weak from their battle with the waves, and nearly dead when taken in. For more than nine hours we were in the boat, and before our rescue the four men last taken in died. Only at intervals when the waves receded could we see the burning ship as she drifted helplessly about. The steam had not been turned off, and thus impelled by wind, water, and steam, the doomed vessel, one broad sheet of flame, rushed to two-fold destruction. The screams and imploring cries for help shouted out in vain came more and more faintly over the water and were finally stilled as the last one met death by fire or sank under the waves. George W. Williams, a member of the 46th Ill., and also on the boat on which I had escaped, at the risk of his own life attempted to rescue a woman who had drifted near our boat. The poor woman died just as he reached her. There were 26 men of the 10th Mo. who went down in a boat and not one escaped death; the boat had been overloaded. After having spent nine hours on the sea, we were sighted by the steamer Gen. Sedgwick. A rope was thrown to our boat and I fastened it to my body; the other men were tossed ropes and the work of rescue was begun. The rough condition of the sea and the suction of the vessel carried me under and to the other side of the boat. In drawing me back, the crew used so much force that seven of my ribs were broken and I was otherwise uninjured. I was in an unconscious condition when taken aboard. The four of us, all members of the 56th Ill., were given the best of care and soon recovered. The others escaping were Isaac Wilhite, of Franklin, Ill., who is still living; George Williams, and Jasper Fitzgerald, both of whom are dead; and myself. I never heard from my brother, and of course the poor fellow had met death with thousands of others. There were two other persons reported to have escaped from the Gen. Lyon, other than us four, but they have been lost sight of long ago, and are probably dead.”

On April 2nd, the General Sedgwick arrived in New York City. On board were 29 survivors of the General Lyon. The New York Times reported that the General Lyon had between 550 and 600 people on board. The passengers consisted of “discharged and paroled soldiers, escaped prisoners and refugees, among whom were about thirty women and twenty-five small children.”

The ship was caught in a storm off Cape Hatteras that grew to a hurricane. Believed to be about 60 miles off shore when the fire broke out, the ship had little chance as the flames quickly spread. Boats were launched from the burning ship, even though it seemed unlikely they could survive such a rough sea.

Into the first boat went the ship’s captain. Several of the survivors stated that the captain lost all control of himself and was crazed with fear. Getting into the first boat did him no good though as it went under the ship’s stern soon after it launched and was hit by the ship’s screw. The boat sank almost immediately.

The General Sedgwick arrived and offered what assistance it could in the storm, taking in the boats that made it to her. By the time the General Sedgwick left, the General Lyon had drifted toward the breakers off Cape Hatteras. It was burned down to the waterline, surely containing no more survivors.